My Guardian Angel
by AmazingLadar
Summary: Beatrice Ashburn is the epitome of normal. That is... until the Weeping Angel turns up and changes her life forever. Rewrite of my first FanFic . First in the Ashburn series! Rated T for some dark themes, not too bad at all. No particular time line. I guess... pre Clara post Ponds if it had to have a timeline...
1. Beatrice's Beginning

**Hello lovelys! **

**Some of you may have read this FanFic before. It was my first ever FanFic, posted in 2010. I was just rereading it a couple weeks ago and saw the potential in there, but it was just… bad. So, I'm rewriting it into a series of four. I like to think my writing has improved a lot over the last three years, so I'm going to attempt this. A lot of details have changed, so if you have read the original, or plan on reading the original after this, just know that it's different.**

**I'll keep the original FanFic online until this one is finished. Once this is finished, I'm deleting the original one.**

**So yes. Please review, let me know what you think! Thanks all you lovely people, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Beatrice Ashburn was just a normal girl. She had a mother, had a father and a little sister. She was currently doing her GCSE's, just like any normal fifteen year old girl. She went through the phase of hating her parents, she went through the stage of thinking everything her little sister did was to ruin her life. She went through it all because… Beatrice Ashburn was just a normal girl. In fact, she was the epitome of normal.

She had a job at Waitrose, a minimum wage job where all she did was stack shelves. She went out with her friends every other weekend, and yes, there was alcohol at these parties. She cared about how she looked and she watched what she ate, hoping that her looks would be enough for her crush to like her back. She cared about what people said or thought about her and she cared about her grades, but no, she wasn't perfect. She was just a normal girl.

Except… that wasn't true. No one's normal. Not a single person on this Earth is normal. Every single person is special or unique in their own way. This was true also for Beatrice Ashburn. While she didn't know it now, one day soon, she would be known as The Girl Who Saved the Worlds.

Yes, worlds. Plural.

What made Beatrice so special and unique that ultimately gave her this title all came down to one day. One simple day that changed her life forever.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon on Wednesday the 8th of November, 2006. Beatrice had finally arrived home after arguably her worst day ever. Everything just went horribly. Well, as horribly as it could for a fifteen year old. First, her Maths teacher (who was out to get her) kept yelling at her. Then, her English presentation went missing, and her teacher wouldn't believe her. Her friends laughed at her and her crush ignored her. Then, she missed her bus, meaning she'd have to walk home. And to make matters worse, it started pouring as she was walking home.

So, when she opened the front door to her house only to see her little sister Maya as hyperactive as she could be, all Beatrice wanted to do was scream.

"Beatrice, you're late" Mrs. Ashburn said. She was dressed up, ready to go out with Mr. Ashburn to a business outing.

"Sorry" Beatrice said. "You wouldn't believe my day-"

"You're going to have to call work" Mrs. Ashburn said. "Maya's babysitter couldn't make it tonight, so I'm going to need you to watch her."

"But mum, I'm saving up for-"

"Yes, I know" Mrs. Ashburn said. "I'm sorry, Bea, but you know how important this night is to your father. We can't miss it, and we can't leave Maya home alone. She's still a little girl."

"No, she's ten."

"She can't cook for herself and she always insists on watching scary movies only to keep herself up all night because of the monsters under her bed. Just do this for me, please, Beatrice."

"Fine" she agreed at last. "I'll call work now."

"Thank you, Beatrice. We'll be back late, don't wait up. Don't forget, lock the doors and windows, remember to turn the stove off before going to bed, no junk food, go to bed early, set your alarms and above all be safe. Watch your sister."

"Yeah, sure" Beatrice agreed, punching in her boss' number on her phone. Mrs. Ashburn stopped for a second then walked up to her daughter and pulled her into a hug.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you right now. Your father's just going through a rough time at work. If this evening goes well, your father may be getting that new job in central London. You always love going there with your friends. It'll all work out" Mrs. Ashburn said gently.

"I know" Beatrice said. Mrs. Ashburn kissed her daughter on the forehead and headed for the door.

"Love you both!" and with that echoing slam of the front door, Mrs. Ashburn was gone for the night.

Beatrice let out a sigh that she was holding back for the whole conversation. She made her way to the living room and flopped down onto the sofa. She put her feet up on the coffee table and turned on the TV. She was _not_ in the mood to have to take care of _herself_ at the moment. How was she expect to take care of her sister as well right now?

"Beatrice!" Maya called out. Beatrice ignored her sister and raised the volume. "Beeeaatrice!" Maya called out again. Beatrice, once again, tried to ignore her sister. "BEEEEAAATRIIIIIICE!"

"What?!" Beatrice finally yelled out.

"I'm hungry" Maya said with a smile. Beatrice groaned and let her older sister duties overpower her. She turned off the TV and made her way to the kitchen.

"Did mum not give you a snack when you got home?" Beatrice asked as she reached for a small bag of Mini Cheddars.

"Nope" Maya said. "She was getting ready."

"Here" Beatrice said, handing over the snack. "Do you have any homework?"

"Nope."

"Maya…"

"I already finished it!"

"Promise?"

"Yes." Beatrice narrowed her eyes and went down to eye level with her little sister. She held outher pinkie and stared at Maya. "Pinkie promise?"

Maya, in return, smiled a great big smile and wrapped her pinkie around Beatrice's pinkie. "Pinkie promise!" Beatrice smiled quickly.

"Alright, go ahead, watch some TV" Beatrice said. Maya did a silent cheer and ran to the living room.

Beatrice sighed and decided to go and do some homework herself. She walked towards the front door to get her bag that she had left there. She picked up her bag and stared at the front door. She could have _sworn_ her mother had closed it on her way out. In fact, she was certain of it. So why was it wide open now? Beatrice slowly closed the door, staring at it confused.

"Maya, did you open the front door?" Beatrice called out. There was no response, just the faint noise of the TV in the background. Beatrice groaned, her sister was ignoring her just like she was before. "Maya, come on" Beatrice muttered, slowly making her way to the living room. "I'm sorry for ignoring you before, there's no need to return…" Beatrice walked into the room, but no one was there. "Maya?" She made her way to the couch, only to see the packet of Mini Cheddars she had given her sister on the ground. "Maya, if this is your idea for a joke, it's not funny!" Beatrice yelled.

She started circling around the living room, opening all the cupboards and closets in the room, continuously calling out her sister's name. After closing one of the closets, the mirror on one of the walls caught her eye. Beatrice turned to face it, only to scream in panic. In the reflection, behind her, was the stone angel that usually stood in their front yard. It usually stood still, with its hands covering its eyes. But not this time. Right there, in front of Beatrice's eyes, the angel was staring at her with a blank expression.

Believing that she must be seeing things, or maybe there was something wrong with the mirror, Beatrice turned around to see it with her own eyes. Instead, the stone angel was now in inches away from her, its hands reaching out and its teeth bared and possibly the angriest eyes she had ever seen. Beatrice's eyes opened wide, but she refused to scream. Instead, she slowly backed up until she was against the wall. She then blinked, and the angel was gone. Just like that. Her eyes were closed for no longer than a second, and it was gone. Beatrice looked around, scared and confused, before she remembered…

"Maya!" Beatrice yelled. "Maya, where are you?!"

Beatrice ran through the entire house, opening every closet, every cupboard that stood in her way. She threw back all the covers on every bed in the house, she checked under every table, every bed, every chair. She checked in the garden, checked in the shed out back. She checked every possible place. Then, she found herself back in the main hall, where the front door was once again open.

"Maya?" she called out. She sprinted out the door, but the streets were empty. Her eyes fell on the angel that was standing out in the yard, exactly where it usually was, and its hands over its eyes, just like it always was. She shook the idea out of her head and ran to the middle of the street.

"MAYA!" she screamed out. She ran through the streets, a panic running through her that she had never felt before. "MAYA, WHERE ARE YOU?!"


	2. Falling

**Hello lovelys! **

**Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Please keep them coming!**

**(I'll try to update every Saturday if I can. Might end up being posted on Sundays. Like I did today).**

* * *

It had been eight years since the disappearance of Maya Ashburn. Even after all this time, Beatrice remembered the day as if it were only yesterday. How could she forget something so awful, so terrifying as the day her sister disappeared? She simply couldn't. She remembered what her mother was wearing. She remembered the Mini Cheddars on the floor. She remembered the front door, wide open. Most of all, she remembered the Angel.

It was in the mirror, it was in front of her. And then, with a blink of her eyes, it was gone. She knew how impossible that was, she did. But it happened. She couldn't make up something like that. She wasn't capable of coming up with that terrifying Angel. She wouldn't dream, even in her worst nightmares, of that terrifying creature. Its blank eyes would forever haunt her dreams. She still woke up screaming sometimes.

Beatrice, of course, told the police everything. She told them that the front door was closed when her mother left. She told them she found it open minutes later, despite not hearing its usual creak. She told them how she searched for her sisters for hours. She told them about the angel. But no one believed her. The police figured she was just wasting their time. Her parents thought she had gone mad with guilt. No one ever considered the possibility that she was right.

Only a week after the incident, Beatrice was brought into a counsellors office. They had therapy sessions twice a week, no exceptions. She had made her way through 3 therapists when her father disappeared. When Maya disappeared, Mr. Ashburn devoted his life to his work, hoping to get his promotion and get the hell out of that house. Then one day, he was gone. His car was still in the driveway, but he was gone.

Mrs. Ashburn spent every minute on finding her youngest daughter, all the while forgetting she had an older one. She never picked Beatrice up from the counsellors office and never cared that once again, another therapist refused to treat the young girl. When Mr. Ashburn disappeared, Mrs. Ashburn had enough. There were days where she wouldn't even go out of bed in the morning. She lost her youngest child and her husband. She didn't even care about Beatrice anymore. Then one day, she picked herself up and became a new person.

She picked Beatrice up from school, took her to and from her therapy sessions, cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. She was almost a new person, and Beatrice loved it. Mrs. Ashburn promised that soon they'd be gone, soon they'd leave that horrible place and leave their memories behind. Beatrice, dreaming of a better future, happily agreed and slept with a smile on her face.

The next day, her mother didn't pick her up for school. When she got home, there were social workers there. Her mother was gone. With nowhere else to go, and no other family member willing to take the poor girl, Beatrice found herself in a clinic. She didn't have any say in the matter.

It wasn't until she was twenty three that she was let out of the clinic. They said that she didn't pose any threat to herself or those around her. They let her go, under the condition that she went to regular therapy sessions.

That was how Beatric once again found herself in the dreaded office. She knew it all too well from her past experiences. The countless talks she had in them, the countless therapists she had analyse her. It was almost insulting. And here she was again, waiting for one Doctor Greggory Lewis to come in and, just like all the others, analyse her every move and word until he finally concluded that she was crazy.

The man who finally walked in was nothing like she expected. He was younger than all the other doctors with a genuine smile on his face.

"Beatrice Ashburn" he greeted her, extending his hand towards her. "I'm Doctor Greggory Lewis."

"Hello doctor" Beatrice said, taking his hand and shaking it. The doctor gestured towards his office and Beatrice led the way in. they sat down on the couches surrounding the coffee table. Beatrice leaned back into the couch and put her feet up on the table, not caring if her new therapist had a problem with that. Doctor Lewis said nothing, simply smiling and allowing her to get comfortable.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you're here" he said. Beatrice stared at him confused.

"Didn't you read my file?"

"Of course not" Doctor Lewis said. "That was written by a couple doctors who thought there was something wrong with you before they met you. It's biased and unfair. I'd much rather hear your side of the story."

And so Beatrice opened up to him. In the next ten weeks of therapy, Beatrice opened up to him more than she had to any other therapist. She told in detail the day her sister disappeared, not being ashamed of to talk about the Angel. She told him everything.

On the tenth week of their therapy sessions, however, Doctor Lewis slipped up.

"I always think about it" Beatrice said. "I dream about that Angel all the time. I just know it took Maya. I _know_ it. But no one will believe me. I can't do anything about it, you know? I'm just forced to sit here and be still and wait for it to all blow over."

"Sit here and be still?" Doctor Lewis clarified.

"Yeah… Every time I try to do something I want to do, whether it's for Maya or not, they expect me not to do it. They expect me to stay in one place forever, where they can keep an eye on me. Just stay in one place like… like a statue."

"Oh, that explains it" Doctor Lewis said quietly. Beatrice raised her eyebrows.

"Explains what?"

"Your hand. It explains why you saw it turn to stone. You're a statue." Beatrice narrowed her eyes at the young doctor. She remembered the incident.

"That happened in the clinic" Beatrice said calmly.

She remembered it very well. The clinic was debating sending her to a less intensive clinic. They felt she didn't need as much care and attention as they were giving her. She was kept under observation so a couple doctors could keep an eye on her and decide whether or not she should be moved. Her hand turned to stone and she had cried for help. She screamed, begging people to do anything to save her hand.

The next day her hand was normal and the doctors decided to keep her in the same clinic.

"I never told you about that" Beatrice finished. Doctor Lewis opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "You _did_ read my file" Beatrice said.

"Of course I did!" Doctor Lewis said. "It would be simply irresponsible not to!"

Beatrice had never felt more betrayed in her entire life. She had trusted the man. She believed he was different from all the other therapists she had to deal with. She had opened up to him despite not being able to open up to anyone else. Outraged, Beatrice snatched Doctor Lewis' notebook out of his hands and started to read.

"Hey! Give me that!" Doctor Lewis exclaimed, reaching out to grab it back. Beatrice jumped out of the way and started running around the office, jumping over chairs and tables that stood in her way. Doctor Lewis childishly chased after her.

She finished reading after a couple minutes of running and stood still. She let the doctor snatch his notes back out of her hands. Beatrice stared at him, her betrayal clear in her eyes.

"I am _not_ delusional" Beatrice hissed at him. "I did not create the Angel as something to blame my sister's disappearance on. The Angel isn't representative of a Guardian Angel, it's not 'protecting' me from the truth. It wanted to kill me."

"These are just… theories. I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with you."

"Nothing's _wrong_ with me!" Beatrice screamed.

"No one's blaming you. Your sister disappeared. What you saw happen must have been very traumatic so you're protecting yourself from the truth by changing your memories. If we could-"

"I didn't _change_ my memories!" Beatrice screamed. "They're all _real_! It happened! That Angel came into my house and it took my sister!"

"Of course you would believe that-"

"I thought you did too!" And then he looked at her. He looked at her in a way that she had seen many people look at her. "I am _not_ crazy." With that, she turned around to leave.

"Where are you going Beatrice?" Doctor Lewis asked calmly.

"None of your business!"

"You know how this works. I need to know where you're going, who you'll be with and when you'll be back."

"And if I _don't_ come back?"

"Then you go back to the clinic." That made Beatrice pause. "I don't want you going back there. You're so young and so bright and you have so much potential but… you need help. I can help you, but if you won't let me… then my hands are tied."

"I'm not crazy" Beatrice repeated, and then she walked out the doors.

* * *

Over the past two days, Beatrice heavily debated what her next move would be. When she finally decided what she would do, she found herself debating if she had enough courage to do the deed. It only took her a moment to realise that she _was_ a coward, but in a very different way to what she originally thought. She wasn't afraid of doing the deed. She wasn't afraid of taking the final step. What she was afraid of was having to spend the rest of her life in a clinic, or in therapy, constantly being told she was crazy. She was afraid of being diagnosed. Again. She was afraid having her every move watched and analysed. She was afraid of watching every word that came out of her mouth, constantly being aware of all the possible ways it could be interpreted.

She didn't want to live like that, if you could even call it living. So she decided.

Beatrice walked through the streets of Reading. She was aware of the fact that it was past two in the morning and she knew just how dangerous it was at this time of the night, but she didn't care. She walked to the highest building in the area and looked up at it. She took a deep breath in before pulling out a pin in her hair and picking the front lock. She let herself in and headed towards the stairs. She climbed up the stairs and with each step she kept thinking of what her life would be like if she didn't do this. And she didn't like it. She didn't _want_ it.

After a long climb up, Beatrice found herself on the roof of the building. She slowly walked to the edge of the roof and hopped up onto the railing. She placed her hand on the wall to her left, just to keep her balance. She looked down at the floor behind her. It was a long fall from where she stood. But, the way her life was going, she was already falling. She had been falling for eight years and now, she just wanted it to stop.

Beatrice took in a deep breath and let go of her support. She closed her eyes and spread her arms out and let herself enjoy this moment.

"Stop! Don't you dare! Don't you _dare_ take a single step!" someone yelled. Beatrice opened her eyes and clung to her support. Her heart felt like it was going to leap out of her chest. She was caught. She was 'saved'. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she turned to meet her 'saviour'. To say that what she saw surprised her was an understatement.

There he was. The man who saved her life. There he was, tweed jacket, red bow-tie and suspenders. That was her saviour. This strange, young madman followed her through the streets of Reading at two in the morning, climbed up the never ending stairs and stopped her from taking the final step. And now what was he doing? Beatrice didn't have the faintest of idea. His back was facing her. He had saved her life and now he wasn't even looking at her. He was just waving a green light at an object she couldn't see in the darkness.

"What the hell are you doing?" Beatrice screamed, ever so slightly offended.

"I'll get to you in a second!" the man yelled back at her. Beatrice's eyebrows rose in shock and her jaw fell open.

"Excuse me?" The man moved to the side and Beatrice managed to get a look at what he was shining his light to. It was an Angel, its hands covering its eyes. Beatrice stared at in in terror. She never did know which Angel was the one that took her sister and which one was the harmless statue that stood outside her house. "What is that?" Beatrice asked.

"I'll explain later" the man said. "First, I'm going to need you to step down from that railing, please." Beatrice looked at the man for a brief second before stepping down. "Great" the man said. He moved towards the door slowly, his eyes always on the Angel. "Sorry, what's your name?" the man asked.

"Beatrice."

"Beatrice, what a beautiful name. Now, Beatrice, I'm the Doctor. I'm going to need you to trust me right now, can you do that?" she stared at the man in shock. After everything she had been through, was she seriously expected to be able to trust again?

"No."

"Oh, of course not. It was never going to be easy, was it?" The Doctor grumbled. "Listen to me, this Angel isn't what it seems. It's not just a statue. I'm trying to save your life here, but _please_, I need you to trust me." Beatrice thought about what to say for a long time. How many times had she wanted to warn people about this? How could he do it and sound so damn… confident?

"You're crazy" Beatrice said, curious as to how he would react. To her surprise, the man laughed.

"Just a madman with a box." Beatrice shook her head at this man. He was just impossible.

"Okay" she finally agreed. The Doctor held out his hand, his eyes still glued to the statue. She took a couple steps closer to the man before hesitantly reaching out her hand as well and holding his.

"Thank you for trusting me, Beatrice" the Doctor said. "Now run."


	3. Trust Me, I'm the Doctor

**Hello lovelys! First off, a massive apology for the lateness. A combination of internet breaking down at home and uni deadlines sort of causes that to happen. I'll try to update again Monday or Tuesday to make up for it!**

**Thanks for all your lovely reviews, follows and favorites.**

**This chapter isn't that interesting, but the next one is! **

**Love Kills, the original second part in the series, has now been deleted and won't be rewritten. It was terrible and had no potential.**

**Please review!**

* * *

The Doctor led Beatrice through the building. Every couple paces, he would turn his head to stare at whatever was behind them. Beatrice didn't even dare to turn and look. She just held the Doctor's hand tightly, trusting this man for reasons she didn't even know. She had every reason not to trust him, he was a stranger after all, and yet she did.

After running down one flight of stairs and running through a seemingly never ending corridor, the Doctor pushed Beatrice into one of the rooms. He stepped inside almost immediately after she went inside and shut the door quickly. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and started to lock the door.

Beatrice stood a couple feet away from the Doctor, staring at him in confusion. He was completely impossible. He was mad and he seemed to making up his plan as he went along. He had no clue what he was doing, but he seemed so confident and for some reason Beatrice felt like she could trust him with her life.

"What are we doing here?" Beatrice asked.

"Hiding" The Doctor answered simply.

"Why?"

"Because you could have died. You _should_ have died. You had your back to the statue. It could have killed you but it didn't. Which means it has something in store for you. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to saving you right now." And with that, the Doctor turned back to the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm locking the door"

"Why?"

"Because the Weeping Angel is still out there."

"Will that door keep it away from us?" The Doctor stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her, an odd look on his face.

"What is it with you humans? It's a terrifying alien with abilities most people couldn't even think of. Why would _wood_ keep it out?"

"Hey, you're the one locking the door here" Beatrice pointed out.

"Yes, well…" Not thinking of a good enough comeback, the Doctor turned back to the door and soniced it again, Beatrice grinning in the back.

"I still don't see how a green light would lock the door." And just as she said that, the click of the lock let them both know it worked. Beatrice stared at the door then looked at the Doctor with wide eyes. "Who are you? What is that? What did you do?"

"I told you, I'm the Doctor."

"Oh, great. Thanks. That really cleared things up."

Beatrice rolled her eyes at the Doctor and turned around to search the room. She might as well try to make the best of this odd situation. The room seemed to be some sort of office. There was a desk with two chairs in front of it and a chair behind it. Judging by vast amount of files on the desk, it clearly wasn't the office of a very organized man. Beatrice turned only to be rudely greeted by her own reflection. What kind of person has a mirror in their office? She groaned and turned the mirror around. Having gained everything she could from this small room, she made her way to the chair behind the desk and sat down, her feet plopped up on the desk of the lazy, vain, self-absorbed unorganized man who worked in this office.

"Here's a question for you" The Doctor said, having watched this odd girl as she moved around the office. "You're being chased by a Weeping Angel and now you're locked in a room with a man you don't know. Why is it that the only thing you do is make yourself comfortable?"

"Well, judging by the way you were looking at me when you locked the door, I figured I'm going to be here whether I like it or not. Might as well act like it was my choice" Beatrice said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"And what was with the mirror?" this time, Beatrice hesitated before answering.

"I don't like looking in mirrors" she said at last.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't" Beatrice snapped. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but accepted it as an answer.

"What about on the roof? What were you doing then?"

"Nu-uh. This is not 'Ask Beatrice' time. I'm not going to just answer each and every one of your questions without anything in return."

"Alright, how about this" the Doctor sat on one of the seats in front of the desk. "A question for a question." Beatrice though about it for a moment before nodding.

"Alright. First question, did Doctor Lewis send you?" Beatrice asked.

"Who's Doctor Lewis?" The Doctor asked, honestly confused.

"I'll take that as a no."

"Alright, my turn. What were you doing on the roof?" Beatrice sighed.

"I thought that'd be obvious" she said softly. The Doctor thought about it for just a second.

"You were going to kill yourself?" he asked at last. Beatrice hesitated before nodding. "But… why?"

"No, my turn" Beatrice said. "If Doctor Lewis didn't send you, why are you following me?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The building was locked when I got here. I took the stairs up and didn't see a single person on any floor. The building was empty. That means you must have followed me in and I want to know why."

The Doctor stared at Beatrice, a small smile forming on his face. He couldn't help but feel proud of her. Finally someone questioning him about what he was doing there. Everyone else just seemed to accept it and move on. Not Beatrice.

"I had to save you."

"Save me? From what? That statue?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I just don't. All I know is that I have to save you."

"But-"

"My turn" the Doctor interrupted. Beatrice stared at him, before nodding her head once and letting him ask his question. "What happened to your family?" And that was certainly not a question Beatrice was expecting to be asked. How on Earth did he know anything happened to them at all? What made him think that there was something wrong with her family life? For all he knew he was some girl who was having problems and wanted a solution. Why did it think it had to do with her family?

"I'm sorry?" Beatrice asked.

"Your family. What happened to them?"

"What makes you think something happened to them?"

"Answer my question first-"

"Doctor Lewis _did_ send you, didn't he?!" Beatrice demanded. It was the only logical solution she could come up with as to how he knew there was something wrong with her family. "You lied to me!" Beatrice yelled. It made sense. He said he had to save her. How did he even know that? What made him think that she needed saving? Unless Doctor Lewis was behind it all. At this point, she wouldn't put it past him.

"I didn't lie to you, Beatrice" The Doctor said calmly. "I have no idea who Doctor Lewis is. What I _do_ know is your family is gone. Mother, father and little sister Maya."

"Who are you?"

"And do you want to know something? You're not crazy. That Angel outside is called a Weeping Angel. It took your family."

"Who _are_ you?" Beatrice asked again, the anger and fear clear in her voice.

"It took me a while to figure out" the Doctor continued. "I didn't know how you could be here in this century, while your family was stuck in the past. But then I saw that Weeping Angel and it all made sense. When I saw you storm out of that psychologist's office, I figured you must have seen the Weeping Angel before. You must have tried to tell someone about it, but they didn't believe you. Typical human behaviour. If they can't explain it, it doesn't exist."

"Have you been stalking me?" Beatrice asked, ignoring the last part of his speech, for now at least.

"No."

"Then who the _hell_ are you?! How do you know so much about me?!"

"I'm a friend" The Doctor answered easily.

"Like hell you are!" Beatrice screamed. "How do you know so much about me?"

"Why haven't you stormed out yet?" The Doctor asked. "A mad man locks you in a room, asks questions about your family and obviously knows more than he should about you. Why haven't you left, running and screaming? Any normal human would."

"I'm not normal" Beatrice said simply. "Normal people are stupid. Everything you know about me you learned from somewhere or something. I have to find out where or who you learned all this from." The Doctor smiled at Beatrice. He knew he saw something in her.

"I might just tell you one day" The Doctor said with a smile. "But right now we have a murderous psychopath outside this door who could have killed you time and time again but never did. We need to find out why. Tell me everything you can remember that happened before your family disappeared." The Doctor looked at Beatrice expectantly, but she just stared at him.

"Why should I tell you?"

"I've got one of those faces…" The Doctor tried, but when all Beatrice did in response to that was raise an eyebrow, the Doctor continued. "You need to start trusting me, Beatrice Ashburn. I'm trying to save you."

And she definitely noticed to the use of her last name. A name she had never given him.

"No" Beatrice said.

"Why is it that the idea of a Weeping Angel scares you less than the idea of trusting me?" Beatrice didn't say anything. So, the Doctor leaned in closely and tried to reason with her. "Beatrice… clearly you've trusted people in the past, and they've let you down. I can't promise that I'll never let you down, but I can promise that it will never be my intention. My intentions always have been and always will be to save you. But I need you to trust me. Please."

She didn't know if it was the puppy dog look that the man had on his face or if it was the use of the word 'please'. All she knew was that for some reason, she felt like she could trust him. he kept asking her to, and she found that she actually _wanted_ to.

"Trust is a two way street" Beatrice said. "If I trust you, you have to trust me. Everything I say, no matter how mad it sounds, happened. If you try to suggest otherwise I'm leaving." The Doctor finally smiled, at long last he had earned her trust. Or, at the very least, was _starting_ to earn it. "And when this is all over" Beatrice continued, "You're telling me who you are and how you know so much about me."


	4. Not the Windows, But the Doors

**Hello lovelys! Update here, as promised (though it is a couple hours late, if you really want to be picky about it).**

**Next update should be up on Saturday. Maybe Sunday. Not going to lie, most likely Sunday.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, follows, favorites! Keep them coming! They really make my day!**

* * *

Beatrice and the Doctor were sitting in their closed off office. Beatrice was retelling her life story as if it were an old folk tale and they were sitting around a camp fire. The words came out hesitantly at first, as they always did when Beatrice had finally decided to trust someone with her life story, but they did come out. She talked about it at first with a caution that one would use to handle a new-born child. But as she told her story, the Doctor took in every word and clearly believed them all. But that wasn't what urged her to carry on.

It was the look the Doctor gave her that made Beatrice start to speak on with confidence and security. The Doctor looked at her in a way she had never been looked at before. He threw her looks every now and then at each point of the story, and Beatrice found herself comforted by it.

Every person Beatrice had ever told her story to gave her the worst look she could ever be given. It was a look of sympathy. Not the type that most people grieving would expect. No, this sympathy had nothing to do with the loss of her family. The looks of sympathy she usually got were directed more towards her 'insanity'. Or, as most doctors would say, her 'condition'. It was the look of sympathy for her believing that an angel had taken her sister. It was a look of sympathy that she was a complete nutter. But she never once got that look from the Doctor.

The look she got from the Doctor was entirely different. While, yes, there was an element of sympathy in the Doctor's look, it was never directed towards her mental state. The looks she got from the Doctor was of sympathy for her loss, an apology on behalf of the people who made her last eight years a living hell, and a long overdue look of respect for having made it this far.

Yes, the Doctor respected Beatrice. He respected her on so many levels. He respected her for being strong enough to live through the hell she'd been through. He respected her for her brightness. He respected her for her abnormalities. He respected her for her belief in her version of what happened. All those years of people planting seeds of doubt in her story, all those years of being told she was delusional, Beatrice never budged. She knew what she saw, and what she saw was a Weeping Angel take her sister.

So Beatrice told the Doctor everything.

She told him about her sister's disappearance, about the Angel that tried to kill her. She told him about her father, pouring his heart and soul into his work, waiting and praying for the opportunity to get away from the place where his little girl had disappeared, before packing his bags and leaving everything, car, house and family, behind. She told him about her mother, spending every waking moment looking for her youngest daughter. She told him about her mother's depression when her father disappeared, and she told him about her quick and short lived turn for the better, before she promised her a life away from this mess and then promptly disappeared forever, just like everyone else did.

The Doctor sat opposite Beatrice, nodding his head and taking in everything, trying to find the link between the three angel attacks. When she finished talking, he didn't dare say a word. She still looked so sad after having relived it all. He wasn't sure how long he was supposed to wait, or if he was supposed to check if she was alright. But, in the end, the Doctor was a child at heart and couldn't stand the long silence.

"I have to ask, sorry" The Doctor said in a gentle tone. "_if_ your father was leaving you that day, why would he leave his car behind?"

"I… what?" Beatrice asked.

"Your father. You said your father left for work one day, but he never showed up and his car was in the driveway. Surely, if a man was going to leave his family behind he would take his car. It's a more convenient way of travel, plus if he really needed to, an alright place to sleep. Why would he leave that behind?"

"Well… He… he must have taken a train. Or bought an airplane ticket and took a taxi. Maybe he left the car for us-"

"Why would he leave the car for you?"

"Because… he loved us-"

"If he really loved you, he wouldn't have left by choice."

"By choice?"

"He never left you and your mother, Beatrice. He would never do that. He loved you both too much. The Weeping Angel is just as capable of taking your father as it is of taking your sister." Beatrice stared at the Doctor, the new possibilities sinking in.

"I never even considered that it took my father as well."

"And your mother?"

"Sorry?"

"You said you arrived home from school to find your mother had disappeared without a trace. No one saw her leave, no one saw her at all that day. She just… disappeared. Do you have any idea how difficult that is to do?"

"… The Angel took her too?"

"Yes. Your mother would never leave you on your own. She loved you too much. All she wanted was a better future for you."

"Why? Why would it take them? Why only them?"

"I don't know. I'm working on it."

"We all just wanted a better life, you know?" Beatrice continued. The Doctor let her talk, partly because it was good for her, and partly because she might say something that could piece this all together. "We were just like everyone else. We worked hard and we wanted to move forward. Even when Maya was gone, we wanted to keep moving forward." And that was it. that was what pieced it all together.

"Beatrice… say that again."

"What?"

"The thing! Maya was gone, but you still wanted to move on?"

"Well… yeah. When Maya disappeared we wanted to get out more than ever-"

"That's it!"

"What?"

"When Maya disappeared, you said your mum was getting ready for a social with your father. You said it was some sort of dinner or something, very important for your father's career right?"

"I... yes. He was after a promotion."

"A promotion that would earn him a job in central London."

"Yes. What does that have to do with-"

"Once Maya disappeared" the Doctor continued, even standing up from his chair, enthusiastically explaining his theory he was sure was right "Your father devoted his entire life to his work. He wanted to get away from the tragedy your family had faced, and work seemed to be his best option. He was now more than ever the best candidate for the job. That promotion was practically his."

"I… I guess-"

"And your mother. The day before she was taken, she promised a new life. She promised you two would leave that place and your memories behind and start over."

"Yes…" Beatrice still wasn't clear on where he was going with this.

"Don't you see, Beatrice?" The Doctor asked. "Every time you were close to leaving that house, every time there was a chance you'd leave, the Weeping Angel would come in and take out whatever was causing you to leave. "

"But why?"

"I don't know. You're important, though. You do something or you meet someone. It must be a fixed point in time. But why wouldn't… Weeping Angels love paradoxes… why wouldn't they… _unless!_"

"Unless… what?"

"Unless…whatever you do here that's so important, whoever you meet, whatever future altering thing you do is beneficial to the Angels! They want to make sure that what you achieve happens. And they'll stop whoever dares get in your way.

"First was your father's promotion. It had to stop that from happening, so it took your sister, thinking that your father would be too distraught to continue to work. Instead, it had the opposite effect. It caused your father to work even harder, and the promotion was practically his. So, the Angel had to take your father. Then, your mother. She promised a new place, a new life, and the Angel couldn't have that. So it took her too.

"That Angel wasn't trying to kill you. It was trying to keep you in that house."

"The clinic!" Beatrice exclaimed as she remembered.

"Sorry?"

"In the clinic, years ago, they were considering transferring me to a less intense facility near London. They thought I wasn't in as much need of their help as I used to be, and they wanted to move me. And I wanted it to, I wanted to get away from that town. They put me under observation for a night, and my hand turned to stone. I tried to get help, but they wouldn't listen to me. They just figured I was crazy and kept me locked up. Can it do that? Can a Weeping Angel turn my hand into stone?"

The Doctor stared at Beatrice, a look of horror and sympathy glued on his face.

"Yes" He answered barely above a whisper. "Under very particular circumstances, it can." And Beatrice knew that the tone in his voice could never be a good thing.

"…What particular circumstances?" she asked hesitantly.

"Beatrice, I need you to think" The Doctor grabbed hold of Beatrice's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "It's very important that you remember…" Beatrice looked back into his eyes and gave a small nod in understanding. "When you were young, when Maya was taken, you saw the Angel. It was in the house, you saw it and it saw you." Another small nod from Beatrice. "_Where_ did you look?"

"I… what?"

"The Angel, when you stared at it, what did you focus on?" Beatrice hesitated. The question as odd, but she trusted the Doctor and thought back.

"The… the eyes." The Doctor let out an almost pained gasp. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. "I… I didn't really think about it at the time" Beatrice said, for some reason feeling the need to defend herself. "Its stare was just so… terrifying. I didn't know what else to look at. Why? Why is it so bad to look at its eyes?" The Doctor rubbed his face before running his hands through his hair.

"The eyes" the Doctor recited. "Not the windows to the soul, but the door."

Beatrice continued to stare at the Doctor. She wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but she knew she didn't like it.

"Beatrice…" the Doctor continued. "You have an Angel in your head."


	5. Time to Leave

**Hello lovelys! I kind of forgot that it was the holidays and so I had promised an update when I shouldn't have. It's here now! Next update will be around the 6th of January, I think…**

**This is a short chapter. It was originally going to be longer (the next chapter was going to be part of this chapter) but it was getting late and it had been so long since I last updated. I just wanted to get something up.**

**Please review! It would mean the world to me!**

* * *

An angel in her head. Beatrice didn't exactly know what that meant, but she could tell simply by glancing at the Doctor that it wasn't a good thing. He looked at her with a new look of sympathy, one that she didn't like. She wasn't dying, there was no need to look at her like that.

"Okay… so, I have an angel in my head" Beatrice said calmly. "That doesn't sound good. What exactly does that mean? For me? Am I dying? Just… really, really slowly?"

"We're all dying slowly" The Doctor said darkly.

"Okay, true, but you still didn't answer my question."

"The Weeping Angel who took your family planted an image of itself into your head. In there, it can influence what you see or…" he thought back to his last experience with the Angels. "Or what you say. You could count down the minutes until your death, if it wanted you to."

"Right. So not a good thing" Beatrice concluded.

"No" The Doctor stated bluntly. "It could have killed you by now. Most of them _would_ have killed you by now. "

"But… how? If it's just in my head, how could it kill me?"

"It grows to the point it can escape you mind. Then it does, and kills you in the process."

"Well, that's a pretty picture you've painted for me. Thanks for that."

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and started to point it at Beatrice. All he wanted to do was a scan, so he started it. As soon as the green light flashed, though, Beatrice jumped and got out of the way. The Doctor stopped what he was doing and looked at her oddly. He wasn't used to people reacting this way. They usually just accept that he knew what he was doing and trusted him. Not Beatrice. She always wanted to know what was happening and why.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Beatrice protested. "Don't you wave that thing at me."

"What?"

"That thing. You were waving it at the statue on the roof and you used it to lock the door. I don't know what else it can do, and I don't like having weapons pointed at me, even if I _do_ have some weird monster in my head."

"No, Beatrice, it's not a weapon." Beatrice raised an eyebrow at him. "I never carry weapons with me, I promise. It's just a sonic screwdriver."

"A screwdriver?"

"That's sonic."

"But… the door-"

"Just put the electronic lock that this very interesting business man had installed in his office. A little extra locking never hurt anyone."

"The statue."

"I was just trying to get some readings off it. I didn't get much off it. I want to do the same to you, just get a couple readings so I can see how you're body's coping with the Angel that has been living and growing in your head for the past eight years." Beatrice continued to stare at The Doctor, every past experience telling her not to trust anyone, and yet her heart told her to make an exception with the Doctor.

"Please, Beatrice" The Doctor said softly and carefully. "You have to start trusting me."

"Every time I trust someone I end up hurt" Beatrice said.

"Trust isn't always about _knowing_ you'll be safe. Most times, it's knowing there's a chance that everything will go wrong, knowing that there's a chance your judgment was wrong, but believing in them anyways." Beatrice stared at The Doctor, not saying a word. He lifted his sonic screwdriver for her to see that he wasn't going to use it without her say so. "I only want to help."

Beatrice hesitated. "And all it does is scan me, yeah? Doesn't… I don't know, cause a mutation or disfigure me or something like that, right?"

"Mutation… disfigure? It's a screwdriver!"

"It's some technology I've never seen before. I don't know how much radiation that thing releases!"

"You'll be perfectly safe" The Doctor said, deciding it would be easier to just reassure her. "It doesn't harm, it doesn't… _mutate_." Beatrice hesitated for a bit longer before nodding her head in consent.

So, the Doctor flicked on his sonic screwdriver and started his scan. He checked everything that he could think of, but found no difference between when her eyes were open and when her eyes were closed.

"You're healthy" The Doctor said. "The Weeping Angel is in your head, but it's dormant."

"Why do you say that as if it were a bad thing?" she asked.

"Because, Beatrice, what is it doing there? Why does it need you alive?" Beatrice paused, not entirely sure if he expected an answer from her. The Doctor paced around, trying to decide what his next move should be. "I have to get you out of here" he finally decided.

"What? Why?"

"As long as that Angel is around, you're not safe, and neither are the people around you. It's better for everyone if I take you away from here."

"I'll try not to take offense to that" Beatrice said, the hurt clear in her eyes.

"It's not your fault. The Weeping Angels are psychopaths. They're dangerous and, quite frankly, stubborn. If they believe that some crack is a new food source and not the end of the universe, then there's not much you can do about it. Just like if they believe taking over your mind and killing anyone who tries to get close to you will be beneficial for them, then that's what they'll do."

"So, you're saying there's no way to stop them?"

"A few, but none that I can do right now."

"Then what do we do?"

"What I do best" The Doctor said darkly. "We run."

"How do you suppose we get out of here?" Beatrice wasn't entirely sure why she was taking it seriously. She shouldn't be thinking about running away with this man, and yet, she was. "We can't exactly push open the door and run. If what I remember from when Maya was taken is true, and I think it is, then these Angels are extremely fast. We could never out run it. Even if we did miraculously make it out of the building without being taken by it, we can't exactly run forever."

"No, we can't. I've tried it once, not a good experience" The Doctor shook away the memories and started pacing again, his constant movement and energy the only thing that kept him from thinking about the past. "I've got a TARDIS only two floors down from here. We don't have to run forever, just a couple stairs."

"I'm sorry, you have a what?"

"A TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"Space? " Beatrice repeated, before the reality hit her. "My God, you're an alien, aren't you?" The Doctor just smiled at her. "But you look so… _human_." At this, the Doctor's smile dropped.

"No, you look so Time Lord" The Doctor retorted quickly. "We came first" he muttered as an afterthought.

"Is that what you are? A Time Lord?" The Doctor groaned. "Do you have a home planet? Will I ever get to see it?"

"Beatrice, please, I'll explain everything when we're in the TARDIS. For now, let's just focus on getting there."

Beatrice hesitated, her curiosity momentarily overpowering her, before she nodded in agreement. They weren't exactly sure what their exit strategy was going to be, but they knew they had to get out of that room, and they had to be quick. That was when they heard a small noise at the door. They both stared at each for a second, a very brief second filled with horror, before turning towards the door quickly.

There, blocking the exit, stood the Weeping Angel. It wasn't baring it's teeth or holding its hands out towards them. It wasn't hiding its face and cowering away. It just stood there, looking at them, almost as if it was daring them to take a step out of that door.

And somehow, that just made it worst.


End file.
